Vol Au Vent
by chocolatecheesecakes
Summary: Nobody knows why Sirius Black, the acclaimed actor, is at the Angel Theatre, but nobody dares question it too much. Except for Remus Lupin, an errant journalist, whose job it is to infiltrate the Angel's Christmas party, and write an article on all the gossip. Although that might be a bit harder than he initially expected.


**This was written for the Performing Arts subject at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments) forum. My tasks were to write about someone pretending to be someone else, writing an actor/actress AU and writing a story with a popular trope.**

 **To complete these tasks (although I think I only had to do one), I wrote about Sirius Black being an actor, Remus Lupin being a journalist pretending to be a waiter, and the trope 'love at first sight' between Sirius and Remus. I also completed the extra credit, which was to write a story with an overused trope that you love. Yes, I love 'love at first sight' stories. They're stupid but cute.**

 **Just a bit of background, I've just come back from a holiday in Wales, I was thinking about the town being a little like Brecon, if you know Brecon at all. It's not meant to be serious, I just wanted it to be fluffy and cute.**

 **I hope you enjoy reading this and feel free to leave me a review if you want to!**

 **Word count: 1622**

Love is a many splendoured thing, especially when it comes to the annual works Christmas party at the Angel Theatre, on a back street of a back road in the middle of a tiny Welsh town. Everyone knew of the Angel, as it was colloquially and affectionately known, and everyone knew of its massive, extravagant productions of everything from Waiting for Godot to Antigone, King Lear to Doctor Faustus.

Productions that brought in crowds from miles around, from over the border and from over the sea, money from all corners of the globe. And, naturally, flowers and compliments showered upon the main actor of the Angel, the theatre's star attraction and main export. The indomitable, unfathomably handsome and unfairly famous, Sirius Black.

Nobody knew how Mr Black - soon to be Mr Black OBE come New Years - had come to be in the town. But nobody really ever questioned this or questioned his decision to stay. The tourism, the jobs… Mr Black was the source of the town's popularity. Nobody dared to question him, in case he realised his mistake. Nobody wanted to push Mr Black away from the Angel, away from the town. Even after all his faults, he brought in all the revenue that the tiny theatre needed.

All the revenue that the theatre needed to throw this tumultuous party to commemorate the end of the year, the end of the season, and their star performer.

The music could be heard for miles, or at least from the next valley over. Anyone who was anyone was invited to this party - from local reporters to journalists from the BBC. And, of course, every person who had ever contributed to the Angel Theatre, in that show of community spirit that you commonly found amongst the fields and unpronounceable place names.

Remus Lupin was not on the guest list on the night of the 23rd December, but his boss had told him that he was to, on no uncertain terms, con his way into the Christmas party. Which is how the young journalist found himself standing on the pavement outside the Angel Theatre, staring up at the building with wide blue eyes, wondering how he would ever find his way into such a magnificent occasion.

His notepad and pen were clutched, securely, in one pocket, fingers tightening instinctively as he looked over to the doors. Of course, they would have security on such an important night. The burly men looked like they would seize Remus by the ears and rip them clean off if he even took one step closer.

No, he would have to be cleverer than that. He couldn't just go up to the front doors. His only options were the windows or the back door. And judging by the freezing cold weather, it was going to have to be the back door. Swallowing his pride, Remus sighed, and made his way towards the alleyway at the back of the theatre.

Why was he here anyway? Why was it always him being assigned to the shitty jobs that nobody else wanted to do - the jobs to satisfy his editor's eternal craving for scoops and badly written full page articles. Come to think of it, why was he even working for them anymore? He had the credentials to move onto a less morally dubious publication, he just hadn't found an opening anywhere else, yet.

The back door to the theatre took a couple of yanks to pull open completely, and when it was fully open, Remus was hit with the overpowering scent of burnt pastry. He winced, and quickly slipped inside, peeling his jacket off his torso and hanging it over a back of a chair.

"Ah, excellent!" Remus jumped, turning to see a short woman bustling towards him, apron outstretched. "You must be one of the extra catering staff… Well, don't just stand there, come on! You're needed!"

The man stood there for a couple of seconds, mouth opening and closing much like that of a goldfish, before he eventually took the offered apron, arranging it around his waist and stretching his arms behind his back to tie the loose strings into a bow. This was as good a way to get into the party as ever, right? The tray of _vol au vents_ which was pressed into his arms was his ticket into the main venue, and the insistent hand pushing him through the double doors from the Angel's kitchen to its foyer was all the incentive he needed to step through.

Maybe his editor had the right idea after all. Remus was sure he looked the part of a waiter, the absence of his jacket had revealed his white dress shirt - coupled with his black trousers, he seemed inconspicuous among the crowds of women in bedazzled dresses and men with gilded cufflinks.

Remus paused for a moment, placing his tray down onto a sideboard and rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He didn't want any stains on his only good posh shirt, especially if it was going to have to last him the entire evening.

The main foyer of the Angel had been transformed into something of a winter wonderland for the event. The massive Christmas tree in the corner stretched up into the air, the very top of the star adorning its top branch just grazing the ceiling. Fairy lights were strewn over the tabletops and stair bannisters, silver baubles hanging from cabinets and chests of drawers. All in all, the colour theme of silver and gold seemed tasteful - rather than gaudy, as Remus expected from an event such as this. He was pleasantly surprised.

 _The Angel Christmas party was bedecked in pleasant silver and gold splendour,_ he imagined himself typing out, at his desk the next morning. _From the well formed nibbles to the elaborate dress code, it was an affair to be remembered._

Distracted by his reverie, Remus didn't notice the tall, handsome man with shaggy black hair that was walking in his direction. Although the stranger was stopped by many, he always barked out a laugh and held out a hand, begging some excuse, before striding on, the crowds parting before him.

Remus offered the _vol au vents_ to an elderly couple, who greeted him with kind smiles. They each took one of the salmon and cream cheese, before waving Remus on to the next party. In his head, Remus was still composing his article - _there was no sign of the main attraction, the renowned actor Sirius Black, begging the question as to why such an esteemed performer found himself in such a backwater. Of course, that was the question on nobody's lips on this particular evening. All that was being asked was-_

"Excuse me," Remus was stirred from his daydreams by a smooth, clear cut voice, and a tap on his shoulder. He immediately turned around, a smile appearing on the planes of his face, ready to act the part of 'extra catering staff'.

He was met with a pair of curious grey eyes and a sly seductive smile. The swooping feeling in his stomach rattled Remus - why did this particular man have so much power over him, and so suddenly after meeting? It took him a couple of seconds to finally regain control over his tongue. "Yes?" he said awkwardly, eyes locked on those of the stranger, stomach still turning somersaults.

The other man paused, hand half outstretched towards one of the cucumber and sundried tomato paste _vol au vents_. He hesitated and audibly swallowed. Remus bit his lip. What was _wrong_ with him, today? Why was he feeling this way towards a man he'd never spoken to before, let alone _met_?

"I was going to ask how you made these," the man's voice was buttery, his smile widening as he spoke. "But now, I think, I'm going to have to ask for your number."

Remus's stomach was now on a one way ticket to the moon. "My- my number?" he stammered out, looking around the room for a camera, or a jolly presenter or anything that could clue him in to the fact that he was on 'You've Been Framed!'. "W-what do you mean?"

The grey eyed man laughed l dly, and gave Remus a brilliant grin, showing pearly white teeth. "I like you," he said, picking up the cucumber pastry and taking a large bite. "I want to have dinner."

If Remus had been frozen before, right now he was in a cryogenic refrigerator right next to Walt Disney. Something was wrong. He'd never felt this way before towards anyone, and now the object of his sudden affections was showing interest - _extreme interest_ \- in him. Already.

After a few more seconds of wordless staring, the man took another bite of his _vol au vent_ , and pulled a notepad and pen out of his pocket. "Tell you what," he said, through the pastry, shoving the rest into his mouth and uncapping the pen with accustomed ease. "I'll give you mine."

Remus was still standing there, uncomprehending of what exactly was happening to him. The cute guy snickered to himself, swallowing the cucumber and scribbling a name, followed by a mobile phone number onto a clean sheet of paper, before tearing it out of the notepad and placing it on Remus's tray. "I look forward to hearing from you," he sent a wink in Remus's direction, turning him bright scarlet, before sauntering away.

When Remus had finally regained his sense of normalcy, he had the good sense to balance the tray on another end table, before picking up the sheet of paper. On it was written:

 ** _For the cute waiter with the brown hair:_**

 ** _Save it under Sirius Black_**

 ** _07966 666666_**


End file.
